Wolverine stars in Creepy Stories
by JulieArchery107
Summary: Ever wonder what would happen if a guy like Logan, AKA the fearless Wolverine, was confronted by the Slender Man or one of the SCP monsters? Or just about any other creepypasta or horror character? If you ARE curious, well...you know what to do ;) PS: This is bound to be hilarious XD


"Wolverine stars in Creepy Stories."

Chapter 1

"Step 1 in story nr.1: Logan gets stuck in Slender Man's forest."

"So… _this_ is what happens when you take the wrong turn returning from the supermarket?" Wolverine muttered to himself, chewing on a cigar and slowing down his motorbike in front of a worn down old warehouse that conveniently stood in the middle of a forest. It was half an hour to midnight and the blow of cool wind blew the toxic wind back into his sensitive nose, making him cringe.

After he parked his most prized possession in the buildings shadow, the fearsome Wolverine walked over to the nearest tree to inspect his surroundings.

Well…for someone who can track a person through _snow_ and _rain_ while completely _blindfolded_ , he _really_ lost track of his original path. Especially if you consider the fact that he was just returning to the institute from collecting some beer for the upcoming soccer games, from the _nearest_ liquor store.

Either his age was _finally_ catching up to him, his amnesiac brain made his body wonder of somewhere without consulting it with his brain first, wouldn't be the _first_ time, or his 'oh-so- _great_ -and- _unfaultable_ ' nose got him lost, which it _didn't_ mind you.

He _still_ had a reputation as an expert tracker to keep, no matter _what_ Victor said that _furball_ is _wrong_. It wasn't _his_ fault this freaky forest appeared out of _nowhere_ , to try and ruin his perfect 'I-found-and-killed-you' score.

Snorting and pushing his hands to his pockets he decided it would be best to return the same way the he came, so he began walking towards his beloved bike but…stopped when he noticed a drawing stuck on a tree trunk not far from where he stood.

Logan raised his eyebrows in confusion, he could have sworn that paper wasn't there before. And he definitely didn't _hear_ nor _smell_ anyone anywhere _near_ the requested proximity to be able to _do_ that. While there _were_ mutants capable of misleading his nose into thinking they don't exist but most of them were either friends, like Ghost Rider, or long since _dead_ killed by yours truly, like Mystique.

And there was simply no _way_ that piece of paper suddenly grew legs and decided to commit suicide on the first tree it saw.

Even _he_ , a guy who was literally _immortal_ and met a half-human half-squirrel and other crazy things in his time spent on Earth _,_ knew that was well beyond the realm of this world's possibilities.

Rising his eyebrow the Wolverine gave in to his natural curiosity and walked up to the mysterious drawing, swiftly tugging it off its place on the trunk.

Now he's not saying that he's a renowned art critic (though with that infamous memory gap in his head, who knew?) but the kid who drew this little _abomination_ desperately needs his/her parents to take him/her to an art class and _pronto_.

The picture was supposed to be of a man standing in the middle of a forest, but it was drawn all wrong! The guy's head was faceless, no eyes no nose no nothing, his upper torso was a black triangle without a visible neck and his arms and legs were simple sticks! To top it all off he also had _tentacles_ coming from his back!

Logan shook his head.

Now the brat's parents also have to add _biology_ lessons to the list of 'how-to-improve-our-child's-education', since the little pipsqueak draws as if his own race was something he only heard of in stories and fairytales.

' _Follows_ ' was written next to the 'not-really-no' man.

Wolverine narrowed his eyes at the picture drawn by either coal or a pencil.

 _Follows?_ He thought. _How can he follow? He can't even see!_

Rolling his eyes the proud feral mutant turned the page over only to be met with the command 'Collect eight pages', on the back of the picture.

Oh so someone was having a 'clue-hunting' game in the middle of this dark and spooky forest (a wise choice of location, totally _not_ hazardous to ones health in the _slightest_ )...and he walked right into it.

Great. Just his luck.

Though something still felt off about this whole thing, mainly the fact that the paper didn't have any scent on it. It was as if it was never held by a human before him, which is _impossible_ because _somebody_ had to _draw_ the freaky picture!

Another thing being that there is obviously no one in the forest walking around collecting them, since he would have heard and smelled anyone in this location, and there would be at least _some_ indication to where the participants should be heading to find more pages, like arrows and visible footprints, but so far he couldn't spot anything with similar uses.

Nothing about this situation made sense so Wolverine, not a person/mutant to think through things too much (not his style really), rolled the picture into a ball and threw it over his shoulder. Deciding he had enough of playing child picture interpreter, and that it was about time he headed home.

But when he once again wanted to rejoin his beautiful bike, another picture appeared in the line of his vision. A non-mutant human wouldn't have noticed the white paper, it being a considerable distance away, but with his heightened senses Logan could see it clear as day.

He _really_ should be leaving…Chuck is probably wondering where he'd run of too by now…and both Kitty and Jubilee are probably waiting up for him…

But something… _compelled_ him to stay and find the rest of the pages.

Now Logan isn't known for his submissive nature, Summers complains about the exact _opposite_ actually, so this unknown force getting him to do just about _anything_ is really quite a miracle itself.

Realizing that, whatever it was, it won't let him leave unless he finds the blasted drawings, the great Wolverine sighted, shoved his hands to his pant pockets and began walking towards the next picture, feeling quite unlike his normal self and more like a doll in the hands of a puppet master.

Unknown to him a pail figure without a face and wearing a black suit, just like the man in the picture, watched him leave before teleporting away.

* * *

JA107: I am digging my own grave, aren't I? So MANY new stories added to the growing list, with none of the old ones finished! Perhaps that's a bit stupid, but I can't help it! I have so many new ideas for stories, I have to get at least _some_ out of my head and into paper or I'm gonna go crazy!


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